


Let Me Save You

by BonfireSmoke



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Hermione Granger, Bullying, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Nostalgia, Sad Draco Malfoy, Sad Harry Potter, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-01-27 08:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21389305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonfireSmoke/pseuds/BonfireSmoke
Summary: The year after the war, Draco and Harry return to Hogwarts to finish their education, along with 8 other 8th years.But with Harry reeling from his recent break up with GinnyAnd Draco being bullied because of his Death Eater past,Will they even get close?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!  
I'm sorry I haven't been posting as much, school's really been biting me in the ass.  
I've been working on this for a while, and I've got a few chapters ready, so I think I'll be posting once every week or two, hopefully
> 
> Other than that, I'd like to say thanks to my beta (he doesn't have an account but thanks anyways!)  
Please let me know if I've missed any tags or if there's something you'd like to see later on in the story or if I've messed something up!  
Anyways, please enjoy the first installment of what I (for now) am calling, Let Me Save You

Ginny walked into the common room of the Gryffindor tower. “Hey Harry!” She called brightly.

“Hey,” he called back, halfheartedly. He took a breath, turning back to the conversation he was having with Hermione.

“Oh Harry,” she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. Harry shrugged her off.

“I'm fine, Hermione,” he said sharply. “It was a mutual breakup. We both agreed that we shouldn’t be together. It was actually my idea!”

Hermione fixed him with a look. “Are you sure it was your idea? Ginny’s been telling me for months how she was trying to break up with you,  _ months _ Harry. I think it was her idea and you're just trying to convince yourself that is was yours.”

Harry stood up, “it was  _ my idea Hermione _ . I was the one that decided we weren't working anymore!” He looked up and realized some of the first years were staring at him. He sat back down and lowered his voice. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“Because people who are fine skip every meal that’s held in the Great Hall and only eat food brought to them by house elves.”

Harry gathered up his things, and stormed up to his room.

  
  


Draco swept down the long corridor, ignoring the whispers that followed him wherever he went.

Or at least trying to.

Whispered words swirled around in his head,  _ scum, death eater, trash, dirt. _ He deserved them all, he told himself. This was his punishment. He may have escaped serving in Azkaban with his father, but he was far from innocent.

“Oi, Death Eater!” A voice called from down the hallway, “is it true that your father got chucked into Azkaban?” Draco kept walking.

“Hey! I’m talking to you, you filthy bastard!” Draco took a breath, never slowing. Just a few more minutes, and he’d be back in his dormitory. Back in his safe haven.

“Everte Statum!” Draco felt himself fly forward, crashing into a wall. He laid in a crumpled heap on the ground, gasping for air. He felt someone kick him in the ribs. “Answer me you fucking death eater!”

Draco let out a low whine. Someone grabbed his hair and pulled his head up, where he found himself face to face with a Gryffindor fifth year. “Now, lets try this again.” His breath smelled like eggs and Draco felt his stomach roll. “Is your poor excuse for a human being father stuck in Azkaban, or did they kill that undeserving son of a bitch.”

Draco closed his eyes.

“Mr. Clarke, would you like to explain to me exactly what you’re doing?” Professor McGonagall appeared behind Draco’s tormentor. The boy let his hair go, and Draco unceremoniously dropped to the floor, breathing heavy.

He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, then used the wall to get to his feet, trembling.

“Detention, Mr. Clarke, every night for a month, and one hundred points from Gryffindor. We do NOT allow ANY sort of behavior along those lines. Do you understand.” McGonagall stared down the boy with stone cold eyes. He nodded, and made to run off. “I want you in my office at 8 o’clock tonight, Mr. Clarke. Do be punctual.” He nodded, eyes wide, and ran.

Draco began walking away. “Mr. Malfoy,” Draco froze at Professor McGonagall's voice, “come with me to my office please.” Draco turned, and followed.

  
  


Harry sat in the eight year boys dormitory, alone. He was the only one who had decided to come back. Seamus and Dean had gone to work in the ministry, Neville was working with Professor Sprout in the greenhouses, and after he’d broken up with Ginny, he and Ron had had a falling out. Hermione passed along that he was doing well and he was working with the twins in the joke shop.

He looked around the empty room, remembering all the good things that had happened in this room. All the Christmases, all the late night talks and stupid games. So many good memories. Nobody around to share them with.

Harry let out a sigh, curling into himself under the covers. He closed his eyes, and gave in to sleep.

  
  


Draco sat in Professor McGonagall’s office, staring silently at the walls. She bustled about in front of him, “would you like tea, Mr. Malfoy?”

“No thank you professor,” he spoke quietly, as he always did these days.

“A biscuit, perhaps?” She placed a tin in front of him. He shook his head. “Have a biscuit, Mr. Malfoy.” He took one.

“Now,” she sat down on the other side of her desk. “Is this the first time this has happened.”

Draco shrugged. “Please use your words, Mr. Malfoy. We are adults, not preschoolers.” Her words were harsh, but Draco could hear that they were meant to be kind.

“It’s never been this bad before.” He murmured, “it’s usually just name calling.”

Minerva drew herself up, “but this is the first time it’s become physical?”

“Yes ma’am.” She nodded at Draco’s words. “Have another biscuit.”

Draco took another biscuit.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Malfoy. You may leave now.”

“Thank you professor.” Draco stood up, and made his way out of the room.

He walked quickly, looking around each corner to make sure he would be safe before continuing, never relaxing until he was in front of the Slytherin dorms.

“Salazar.” The door slid open, and Draco darted in, exhaling. He immediately made his way to his dormitory, where he collapsed onto his bed. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and began to silently cry.

  
  


“-RY POTTER!” Harry shot up like a rocket, nearly falling out of bed.

“What the  _ fuck _ Hermione!” Harry spat, untangling his legs from his blanket, “why the hell would you do that?”

“Because you’re about to be late to Defence Against the Dark Arts! I brought you some toast, eat it. I’ll meet you downstairs in 15 minutes. Or else.” She flounced out of the room.

Harry smiled slightly, making his way out of bed. At least there was still one person that he could count on to be there, even when he didn’t want her to be there.

He ate the toast.

  
  


Draco opened his eyes to an empty, dark room. Grabbing his wand, he cast a quick Tempus to see that he was late for his first class.

He sighed, pulling his blanket over his head, then, reluctantly, slid out of bed.

He quietly walked into class, ignoring the looks some of his classmates were giving him. The professor was droning about something, Draco wasn’t paying attention anyways.

“Mr. Malfoy.” Draco’s head shot up.

“Yes, professor?”

“Would you mind explaining why you were late to my class?”

“I overslept, ma’am.”

Professor Jones nodded, and turned back to the creature on her desk. Draco folded his arms on his desk, and dropped his head into them.

  
  


Harry nudged Hermione, “is it just me, or does Draco look worse than usual.”

Hermione paused her rapid note taking, and glanced back at Draco. “He looks fine, Harry. Now pay attention.” She hissed, turning back to the front.

Harry did the same, placing his head in his hand, and letting Hestia’s words flow over him.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco sat in the back corner of the library, paging through his potions book. He had 3 feet of parchment due the next day over Felix Felices.

His quill scratched quietly on the page as he wrote out the steps and detailed how to obtain each ingredient and it’s uses.

“Wait, shit.” He muttered, “the ashwinder goes in before the murtlap. A second year would know as much. Goddamnit.”

He pulled out his wand to vanish his writing, but felt someone yank it out of his hand.

“Death eaters don’t get wands. You never know what they may do with them.” Laughter sounded behind Draco, and he froze. “Oh, no ‘my father will hear about this?’ Oh wait, he’s in Azkaban!”

Draco sat up a little taller, and kept working on his essay. He’d vanish his writing later. The boys behind him kept laughing. He could hear them calling him names, and making threats.

“I’ll snap your wand.”

“Maybe I’ll just keep this, death eaters don’t need wands anyways.”

“I’ll curse myself and say it was you, get you kicked out of the school!”

Draco closed his eyes and hoped for a miracle, and his miracle came in the form of Madam Pince.

“What are you boys doing!” Her shrill voice pierced through the laughter, “stop roughhousing in the library! And give this poor boy his wand back.” The ringleader sheepishly handed Draco his wand back. “Now out. Out!” She chased them out the library doors, and came back to Draco. “Are you okay?” He nodded, and began vanishing his writing.

“Thank you Madam Pince,” he whispered, not wanting her to kick him out as well.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Malfoy.” She went back to her desk, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts once again.

  
  


Across the castle in the Gryffindor tower, Harry and Hermione sat in the common room, writing the same essay.

“Remember in sixth year, when Slughorn had that contest and I got that thing of Felix.” Harry said, wistfully.

“And you pretended to put some in Rons pumpkin juice the morning before your first Quidditch match?” Hermione let out a low laugh.

“You freaked out, remember? You didn’t speak to me for a while after that.” Harry murmured with a smile.

“Then you actually took some the day Aragog died, that's how you go that memory from Slughorn for Dumbledore.”

“And I burst into his office at midnight with it, and that's how I found out about horcruxes.”

“Then when you and Dumbledore went to get the locket,”

“Which turned out to be a fake anyways,”

“We all took some and that's probably the only reason we all survived when the death eaters showed up.”

“Then Snape killed Dumbledore, but it turns out that was part of the plan all along.”

Hermione looked up from her essay and looked Harry in the eye, “I still can’t believe that it was Snape who killed him.”

“I think it was supposed to be Malfoy who killed him, but he couldn’t do it.” Harry pushed his parchment over to Hermione. “Read this over please?”

Hermione shook her head, but took it anyways. “I guess he wasn’t strong enough.”

“Yeah,” Harry looked at the fire roaring in the fireplace, remembering a time where Sirius’s head had popped up amidst the flames and he reassured Harry that everything would be okay.

  
  


Draco lay awake in his bed, twirling the tip of his wand in a circle, watching the silver light it emitted. It illuminated the area around him, but he focused on his wand.

He refused to sleep. If he closed his eyes, the insults would come flying back to the front of his mind. He didn’t want to think about it.

He kept twirling his wand.

_ I won’t sleep I won’t think about it I won’t sleep if I don’t sleep I won’t think about it. Just. Don’t. Sleep. _

_ _ He started doing a figure 8 pattern.

  
  


Harry woke with a start, breathing heavy He grasped at the retreating tendrils of his dream, never wanting to leave it. He’d been laying in a field with Ginny. They’d been talking, she had rested her head on his chest. Everything felt right with the world.

He rolled over and closed his eyes, ignoring the tight feeling in his chest that seemed to consume him whole.

  
  


Draco shot up with a gasp, quickly clasping his hand over his mouth, muffling a scream. He’d had another nightmare.

He didn’t even remember falling asleep.

He sat up slowly, feeling around his bed for his wand. He eventually found it under his pillow, and cast a tempus.

_ 05:17 _

_ _ He had three hours before breakfast. He couldn’t risk going back to sleep, so he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up.

_ May as well work on my essay. _

He sat at his desk, and began writing.

  
  


Harry rolled out of bed, still tangled in his duvet, and landed on the floor of his dormitory with a thud. He glanced at his watch, and seeing the time, grudgingly detangled himself and shuffled over to the bathroom to start getting ready.

He ran a wet hand through his hair, it had only taken him 18 years to start to try to control it. He reached for his comb, running that through his hair as well. It didn’t help much, it never really did, but it made him feel better.

Dragging his robes over his head, he began to briskly walk towards the Great Hall.

  
  


Draco dragged himself down to the Great Hall, slowly, to see if anything the house elves had made that morning managed to spark his appetite.

Nothing did.

He put some eggs on his plate to stop anyone from worrying- not that anyone would in the first place- and shoved them around his plate with his fork.

He looked up briefly from the unappetizing mess that was now in front of him, and saw that Harry fucking Potter had just walked into the Great Hall. It was the first time that year that he’d seen the great Potter at any meal whatsoever, and not just in one of the classes that the 8th years were all required to take together.

He watched as Potter sat down by Granger and put a piece of toast on his plate, chatting with her.

He wished he had someone to talk too, but he could live without, he always had. He didn’t need anyone now.

He would never need  _ anyone _

  
  


Harry followed Hermione out of the Great Hall, and to Defense Against the Dark Arts. She was talking about something, and Harry just blocked it out, preferring to think about whether or not he had gotten his homework done.

“Harry! Are you even listening to me?” Hermione's voice pierced the air around Harry’s thoughts.

“Huh?”

“I thought as much, I’d very much appreciate it if you’d listen to me when I’m talking. Anyways, as I was saying, I’m worried about Draco.”

“Malfoy?” Harry’s eyes widened as he spoke in disbelief. “Why are you worried about him?”

“He’s not eating, Harry. People have to eat. I think one of us should talk to him. He’s the only one from Slytherin that came back for 8th year anyways. He could use a friend.”

“I vote you talk to him, Mione, he’s bound to respond better to you than to me, after all, we were rivals from the moment we met up until just last year, and even then that’s a stretch.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right, I’ll talk to him then.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup bitches  
I'm fucking back  
yeah sorry for disappearing for like, 5 months.  
but schools been canceled for the foreseeable future  
so i'll hopefully be updating a bit more!  
this chapter is a little shorter than the rest  
but i should have like a halfway decent upload schedule now?  
no. no please dont hold me to that you will be disappointed.  
if you have any critiques or ideas or something you want me to put in the story  
hit me up in the comments and i promise i will do my absolute best to do it  
but anyways, here you go, enjoy!

Draco looked up from his book when he felt the table shake. As he looked over, he saw Granger sit down on the other side. She nodded to him, and started reading her book.

He went back to his book as well. The war was over, there was no reason he couldn’t be civil to her. She  _ was _ actually a pretty smart girl.

After another half hour, he heard her whisper, “Draco.”

He looked up, half annoyed that he’d been jolted out of his book, half pleased that for once he wasn’t being addressed with venom behind sharp nicknames or pitied  _ Mr Malfoy _ ’s.

“Yes, Granger,” He replied, “what do you want.”

“You can call me Hermione, you know, I don’t mind. Anyways, I noticed that you were reading  _ A Study Into the Possibility of Reversing the Actual and Metaphysical Effects of Natural Death, with Particular Regard to the Reintegration of Essence and Matter _ . I’ve been meaning to pick it up, is it any good?”

Draco stared at Granger- Hermione- dumbly. Just a few months ago they’d been fighting on different sides of a war, and now they were talking about library books and calling each other by their first names?

He must be crazy.

“I haven’t gotten very far in yet, it seems quite promising though…”

What had his life come to.

  
  


“He seems like a nice guy, Harry. I still say you should talk to him.” Harry looked up from his potions essay, doubt embedded in his eyes.

“I still dunno, Mione. It’s just still really hard to trust new people after the war, especially when the person you’re asking me to trust is Draco motherfucking Malfoy.”

“It’s okay Harry, I get it.” Hermione smoothed her hand down Harry’s arm. “I’m not asking you to trust him, I’m asking you to  _ try _ . For me Har, please?” Then she flashed those eyes that never failed to make him say yes.

He slumped back into the couch, defeated. “I’ll try. I can’t say I’ll do more than that, but I’ll try.”

“Thank you Harry. I think you two might have more in common than you might think.” Hermione then sat down next to him, and Harry looked over to her.

“Hey, Mione?”

“Yes?”

“Can you edit my essay?” Hermione heaved a sigh, and rolled her eyes.

“Sure Harry, hand it over.”

  
  


Draco collapsed into his bed, dropping his head onto his pillow. He tossed the book he’d been reading earlier onto the floor, sighing.

Hermione had been nice, at least. It was a nice change from kids younger than him, kids who didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.

A nice change, in the moment. Draco knew it probably wouldn’t happen again.

It was a fluke, a spur of the moment decision that had probably hit Gran- Hermione over the head with a bat. Made her feel bad, seeing him sitting there by himself.

She was that kind of girl, nice enough to sit with an outcast for one day, no more.

He was still alone. He was okay with that.

He had to be okay with that.

  
  


Harry sat down at breakfast the next day, waving awkwardly at Draco. Draco looked momentarily surprised before looking away. Not unexpected, of course.

That was, of course, the first real contact they’d actually had since the war that wasn’t enforced by a teacher.

He knew he should talk to Draco, but he didn’t want to. There was still that edge of uneasiness that Harry still felt around him.

Hermione nudged him, “you should talk to him.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. It’s still too soon.”

Hermione nodded understandingly, “okay Harry. I get it, but you’re going to have to eventually”

“Eventually doesn’t have to mean soon.”

“Eventually doesn’t have to mean soon.” Hermione repeated, looking thoughtful, “you’re right. Eventually doesn’t have to mean soon, but eventually does mean eventually. You’ve both been through some fucked up shit, Harry. We’ve all been through fucked up shit. It was unavoidable. All of this, everything we’ve done, it was unavoidable. We have been played our entire lives, treated like we were puppets and had no control over our lives, but we’ve grown up now. Granted, we had to grow up long before this. Take the time you need, Harry, but realize, we were put on opposite sides of the war by our parents, by the people we grew up around. Not by our own choice. So, during your eventually, and please, Harry, only do it when you’re ready, but when this eventually does come, just think, what would have happened if we had had any control over our own lives. What would have happened, if we were on the same side.”


End file.
